Letters
by Kenpachi.and.Marco.Fan11
Summary: A rare RogerxRouge story. Told from Rouge's POV as she looks back at "good ol' times".
1. Letters

**Letters**

Make clear now: DO NOT OWN!

Letters addressed to the same recipient lay scattered across my desk and consume its drawers. The handwriting is sloppy and less than admirable but I couldn't love anything other. They tell of wild stories, ones that leave little to the imagination and are only told as a child's bedtime stories. You always told me that's what being a pirate was like: free and adventurous. I'm envious of the life you led, not held back by the standards and rules set by society.

I know you're gone; I watched your world-stopping execution. I know this yet I insist on writing letters to you, knowing full well they will never reach you. Somehow, I think they keep the hurt away, like a vice or escape. Maybe deep down, I still believe that what I saw was a lie and that you had just pulled another prank of yours; I desperately want to believe that. I know that's not the case, otherwise you wouldn't have looked the way you did when we exchanged a final good-bye.

I've done one other thing to bring peace to my conscious: I've decided to write about things instead of just letters. Not something mundane like how my day went or a useless list of things that will never come to fruition. No, it's a book, just carrying excerpts of things I truly miss about you; from the simple things to every complexity your personality held. I know I'll never forget a single detail, but writing it all down just makes it feel like it will last forever. That's foolish of me, isn't it?

Okay, so the beginning/prologue sucks, not going to lie. And I've never done RogerxRouge story before, even though I love this pairing to death (bad pun), so hopefully it gets better as it goes. Thanks for reading Chapter 1 and hope you follow to Chapter 2!


	2. Smile

**Letters**

DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!

Chapter II: Smile

I think the trait about you I miss the most is that ridiculous smile of yours. You were always smiling, sometimes stupidly, but I don't think I would have you any other way. You used to smile in the best and worst of situations and you were keen to make sure it didn't go unnoticed. I think everyone knew, dear; you said it was a D. trademark.

I've heard of those "men with many faces" but a man of "many smiles" is new. Your smiles were contagious and it was nearly impossible to frown or be sad whenever you grinned like a fool. They could either make or break someone's day. Ha ha, be glad they always made my day. You know, that's one thing I always looked forward to whenever you came to visit; those dorky smiles that made me feel like a silly girl stuck on her first crush all over again. I'm sure you're proud of yourself for that one, aren't you?

I know it was always your thing to smile, but I still want to know why, on that day that shook the world, you decided to smile. Is that just another trait of the D. lineage, to smile in the face of certain death? I hope you won't be too disappointed if I don't when I pass on. But why did you smile, just before your heart was stopped? Some days, I wonder if you did it to spite me, just making it that much harder to let go. I used to get angry with you over it but I've since realized that you did it as a form of encouragement, maybe even just to anger the Navy.

I miss those smiles, much more than anyone could. Nothing made me feel better than that wide grin on your face; my worries just seemed to fade away. I know that perhaps I should try to do the same, smile as though there wasn't a care in the world. But I feel that if I did that, I would only be hiding behind it, using it to hide everything else. But I'll certainly try, Roger, I'll try my best to match that smile of yours.

I apologize that these are dreadfully short but it's late, so my apologies. Also, I'm taking requests for anyone who wants to throw in a suggestion. I WILL NOT ACCEPT FLAMES AND YOU WILL BE IGNORED. Thank you again for reading!


	3. Moustache

**Letters**

DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!

Moustache

I'll be honest: your moustache used to bother me. It just seemed out of place on your face but you were very adamant about it. "It's a symbol of who I am!" You used to say that like it was going out of style and even now, I still smile at that.

There were instances, I remember, when you were deep in thought that you would simply sit there, staring off while twisting it between your fingers. It seemed so stereotypical for you to do such a thing but I usually just laughed it off. By the time you came out of your daze, you usually had wound it into some form of knot. You never let me help unknot it either; always convinced I would take that opportunity to cut it off. Please, I have better manners than that.

Your moustache did serve one other purpose, one I was rather fond of: it was a simple way to keep you out of trouble. Whenever you started a ruckus about something, all it would take was a simple tug and you settled. I wonder if that because it actually stung or if you just knew what I'd do if you didn't. So maybe I didn't dislike it as much as I seemed to let on. I'll say right now though, I've never met another man who was so vehement about his facial hair.

It tickled too, and occasionally made me sneeze (I apologize for those few unfortunate incidents). Whenever our lips touched, it tickled my nose and I always tried not to laugh; most times I managed to keep them at bay but not always if you remember. Of course, the first time I panicked because I thought a caterpillar had fallen on my face but you laughed at that, now didn't you?

I guess, looking back on everything, I suppose I miss that moustache of yours, no matter how much I disliked it before. I wonder if, wherever you are now, if you still stare off into space and simply twist it in your fingers. Maybe it's knotted because you've gotten fed up. Why would I not be surprised?

*bows repeatedly* I'm sorry to the few people who read this that this update took so long. College has taken over as well as other distractions, which explains the lateness and why this chapter is poorly done. I apologize for the present and future in the case updates take forever again.

On another note, I'm still open for suggestions. Right now, I only have two or three other ideas before I may have to end this. Unless I can get some (sorry to guilt/beg), expect only a few more chapters. Thank you to everyone for their patience!


	4. Meeting

**Letters**

DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!

Meeting

Seeing you for the very first time was not what I had expected. All my life I've been warned about pirates and the treacherous things they do. So when you and your crew docked at our port, our island panicked; we women weren't permitted outside by ourselves, no matter how close to home our destination was. I didn't like that rule and often snuck out; I believe I told you that and you laughed. It was strange though: you were pirates yet not one complaint was made about you and your crew.

I remember where we met; at the market, remember? We stood side-by-side, not speaking and minding our own business; I didn't know you and you didn't know me. Complete strangers. You caught a glance at what I was already holding; I had been running other errands prior to the market. You wondered aloud at how a "scrawny thing" like me managed to carry so much. I really did try to be polite, turning calmly and answering patiently with a "not every girl is weak, you know."

I didn't know back then that turning towards you would cause such a thing as what did. You gave me a curious look before grinning broadly and laughing. It melted my heart, locked up my knees, and made me blush which you wasted no time in pointing out with another laugh. I wanted to smack you but I was too polite; I wouldn't do such a thing to a stranger. So I introduced myself and you did the same; then I smacked you for laughing at me.

You decided you were bored and insisted on accompanying me as I did my errands; I was at a lack of words so I assume you took that as a yes. I was wary at first, as I had been taught, but it slowly eased away and I was happy to have company. Even for so short of time we spent together, you told me so much that it felt as though we had been friends for years.

When you told me a few days later that you were leaving, I was not terribly surprised. On this small island, everyone knew everyone and I didn't know you; I just assumed you were part of a fishing ship who had stopped by briefly. It was then that you blinked and contradicted me, that you were involved in no such thing. A pirate was what you were, a rather famous one at that, and clarified patiently who you truly were. I was more than slightly surprised. After associating a face to the name my mother warned me so desperately about, I was shocked. The warnings she and the townspeople casted didn't quite match with what you had told me. Heinous, human rubbish, and a criminal; that's all they called you. Yet after spending that time with you, I couldn't understand why. I told you that right to your face and you laughed cheerfully.

"It's a constant," you told me, "but people can think what they want! I truly couldn't care less what they call me!" I never once forgot those words.

Sooooooo…..not going to lie, the weekly update thing I think was a bad idea but I'm too stubborn to go back on it. I owe one of my reviewers a BIIIIIIIIIIIG thank you for giving me this idea! I honestly probably wouldn't have thought of it myself. =w= So thanks go out to you!

Still open for requests/suggestions! And thanks to my wonderful ipod Nana-chan and the music she holds, I've come up with a few more ideas! I'm hoping for 10 chapters! Woot! Thanks again for reading!


	5. Song

**Letters**

**DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!**

Song

I remember asking one day what pirates did when they were bored out at sea; if maybe drinking was involved. You blinked at me, like I had caught you off-guard, before you laughed cheerfully. "Alcohol's involved with just about everything we do!" you answered with a grin. You explained to me about the drinking parties the lot of you had and of all the drunken antics that usually followed. Some of the things your crew did simply appalled me; I can understand that you were pirates but honestly! You must've known this because you quickly changed the topic.

Something caught your attention; I believe it was the song the nearby children were singing cheerfully. You turned back to me and asked curiously what song they sang. I was taken aback, slightly of course, and explained that it was a song native to our island; you gave me a confused look. "Never heard of such a song," you said despondently but your voice sounded intrigued. I could only smile.

"Let's make a deal," that seemed to interest you, "teach me the song pirates sing at these drinking parties and I'll teach you this song." You grinned and agreed.

We sat there, laughing at lyrics so foreign to our understanding, until the sun was nearing its end. I remember to this day that you always told me never to sing that song in public; the results would be horrible you warned. I've followed that warning to the dot but sometimes, usually when I write these letters to you, I sing that song to myself. It brings a smile to my face and it reminds me of good times. "Going to deliver Binks' sake…"

So good news, bad news! Bad news first: I probably screwed over the whole Binks' Sake thing so withhold snarky remarks about that, thankies. Good news! Thanks to college (ironic yes), I have come up with about another 17 chapters! Oh yeah, I said 17! If you still want to put in a request/suggestion, feel free! Thanks go out to all my watchers and reviews!


	6. Dance

**Letters**

**DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!**

Dance (recommended listening: Saltwater Room by Owl City)

"Do you know how to dance, Roger?" You answered with a simple shrug. Less than energetically, you followed with a "depends on what you call dancing." I rolled my eyes with a smile, explaining further. You said dancing was not necessarily common with pirates and anything that even came close to it was any antic done while drunk.

Remember when I decided that you were learning? You were always up for new things; I suppose I took advantage of that a few times. I remember feeling so happy when you laughed in agreement; it just gave us more time to be together before you set sail again.

Teaching you to dance was definitely not the easiest task in the world. Not only were you completely inept at it but also I have never been the most stellar dancer either. Countless times did you step on my foot (and goodness Roger, you always felt terrible about that!) but countless instances did I do the same to you. We laughed without a care at our humiliating failures, falling to the ground more than once. So comical we had to have looked at the time.

"We're bound to be the worst dancers ever, Rouge!" you laughed as we fell back into the grass. Our legs were tangled together from the latest failed attempt and I had to laugh in agreement. There was never a doubt in my mind that we were but even if we were awful, terrible even, we were happy.

By nightfall, we had given up and had settled in the grass. The night air felt like a relief for the hot sun we had spent hours in. Our dancing experience was a failure, remember? But then you decided to really make a fool of me, didn't you? You told me after all that that you did know how. I don't know if you realized this but for a split moment, I was cross with you, but that dorky grin eased it away. I didn't bother thinking about why you had lied about it; you always had a strange reason for actions that failed to make sense.

I still thought you were bluffing so I asked for you to prove it to me, smiling cheerfully. I didn't expect you to; I don't know why I didn't say that then. You laughed and pulled me to my feet, putting an arm around my waist and my hand in yours. "It's simple," you assured with a wide grin, "something even us failures can do!" And you were right; it required no experience whatsoever and just the simply ability to step side to side. Yes, even failures like us could do this simple motion.

I like to look back at that night with a smile but also with sad eyes. It could not have been any more wonderful, the two of us mad with laughter, but it also could not have been more painful. I loved that dance you taught me, so simple and uncomplicated, but now I can't bear it.

What? Another update without waiting ungodly amounts of time? Yes, it is. I have a list of chapters to come, some happy, some sad. The next chapter (I've decided to call it "Flower" and that's the only hint you're getting. ;D) is half done right now and should be completed (along with others) by tomorrow afternoon. So I'm holding myself to get that out for all you lovely people by tomorrow night! As always, feel free to send suggestions; if it's not in the list, it could very well be used! Thanks as always for reading and reviewing!


	7. Flower

**Letters**

**DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!**

Flower

During the island's summer months, my favorite flower, hibiscuses, were in bloom; you used to laugh at me whenever I got excited over it. You asked at first why I expressed such eagerness over these flowers. "I like red flowers" is how I answered. Red flowers had always been my favorite.

I used to drag you to my favorite grove of hibiscuses. I say drag yet never once did you protest; maybe you enjoyed it as I did or perhaps you were just very good at hiding it. You used to follow behind me while laughing; I can only imagine you liked it. The grove was isolated, away from the town and overlooked the island bay. I always used to get my flowers from there.

You used to laugh at me while we were there; you said I was picky about which flowers to pick. Maybe I was a tiny bit; about size mostly. The first time I brought you to the grove, you questioned why I always put a flower in my hair. "Mother says it complements my hair" was my answer. You looked at me, then at a hibiscus, and then back at me before laughing in agreement.

We wandered through the grove for quite some time before a flower finally rested behind my ear. As we left, you stopped; I stood there in confusion. You stood there for a few moments before turning back to me; I almost laughed. "Now we match!" you exclaimed so proudly and I laughed. We did match, didn't we?

So….have I told you lovelies how much I love you and your patience? No? Well, I do, very much. I know I told some of you I would have this chapter up last night but I got dragged into helping my mom with the animal rescue's gala thing. So it's a little late and I apologize but it's here at least! :D Thanks as always, everyone! You've made this little fanfiction a lot more popular than I thought it would ever be! THANK YOUS!


	8. Taken

**Letters**

**DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!**

Taken

I never took you to be the jealous type, Roger, but you certainly were. I could never hold it against you; after all, you used to be quite…almost _childish _about it. Never did I once intentionally bring about that side of your personality, but I would be lying if I said I didn't find it amusing.

I suppose your "shining" moment of jealousy was a few months after the two of us met. You had come along as I ran my weekly errands and simply kept me company; I enjoyed it as much as any other time together. It was like any other errand day that we spent together, until we reached the market of course. It was as busy as ever with nothing out of the ordinary.

You wandered farther down while I rummaged through potential ingredients for that night's meal. Surely you remember that I was wary of letting you out of my sight, out of concern of what trouble you might cause (fortunately, you didn't go far)? I know you didn't stray far because I noticed you twitch slightly when my neighbor struck up a conversation. I didn't realize this bothered you until he remarked about how, maybe, we should hang out more. Your frown was clear even from where I stood, and I remember feeling confused. I hastily paid and ran after you as you walked off. The silence was deafening, even slightly nerve-wracking, as we walked home.

"Is something bothering you, Roger?" I remember asking; I was puzzled by your uncharacteristic behavior. It was then that you stopped and turned back to me. I must admit that your childish frown, perhaps even a sulk, was humorous; I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

You stood there for a time, simply staring and appearing to be deep in thought. Now the silence was getting awkward. Before I even got the opportunity to speak, you reached out and plucked the flower from my hair. Now why on earth would you do that? I began to protest, reaching out to snatch it back. Naturally, you always found a way to leave me speechless. I remember the next few words dying in my throat when you replaced my flower, but to the left side rather than the right where it had originally resided.

"You obviously know the tradition!" you laughed, poking my cheeks as they brightened from embarrassment. I did know the tradition: a flower worn on the right meant you were single while worn on the left meant you were taken. "Now those other boys will leave you alone!" I stood speechless for what seemed like forever before asking shyly if that was the only reason. "Of course not!" you huffed, putting your hands on your hips. "It means exactly what it means!"

I remember you giving me a dorky grin when I picked a nearby flower and perched it behind your left ear, and returned it happily. We were both taken.

So I don't take any credit for this idea. Kari Ezumi is to thank for it so hugs go out to you! Sorry it took me so long to get this out; I had a four page paper due the day before I wanted to finish this (I did my paper on One Piece too. ;P ). So as always, I'm open for any suggestions and thank you all for reading and reviewing!


	9. Birthday

**Letters**

**DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE!**

Birthday

I never particularly cared for having a birthday in the summer; it seemed as though everyone else on the island also did. It was because of that that the enthusiasm I once had for my own dwindled. Soon, it became nothing but a mundane event, coming and going with the years. As anything else mundane in my life, it became exciting again after we met; you had a habit for that.

I remember it started when you asked how old I was after realizing you had never asked. Honestly Roger, surely even pirates know better than to ask a woman her age! "I'll be 27 in a few days," I answered briskly, smacking your arm for such a rude question. You just laughed it off as usual before stopping altogether, blinking as if you realized something. I remember asking if anything was wrong; you just laughed that off too.

You were gone the few days following that; still harbored at the port yet nowhere to be found. It was puzzling but I had decided not to think on it. You were a pirate and a grown man after all; no need for me to constantly watch you. I admit, while slightly embarrassed, I did begin to worry as the days stacked on top of each other. You were never gone this long without leaving the island.

So when you came back to visit (though you never truly left), I would've felt relieved and happy….if you hadn't decided to come at the early morning hours. I was an unhappy person at that time, Roger, and you should've known that, but you had obviously forgotten. I remember swinging open the front door with a cross expression but also remember how fast it fell. You were standing there on the porch of our house, with an expression mixed of embarrassment and irritation. Around your neck was an ungodly pink colored ribbon, tied into a sloppy and slightly grungy bow.

I put my hands on my hips, and a smile broke out. "Is there a reason you are standing at our door at this hour, looking like a grumpy pirate with a pink ribbon?" You grumbled something under your breath and I know that it probably wasn't something nice either.

"My crew did this," you muttered, sulking like a young child; I remember blinking in astonishment. "I thought for days about what to get you for your birthday and couldn't think up anything. So my first mate turned everyone against me, put this damn thing around my neck, and kicked me off my own ship." You sighed but grinned dumbly. "So, guess I'm your present this year! Happy birthday!"

I remember staring at you blankly for a few moments, blinking every once in a while. Mind you, this was the only thing keeping me from laughing at you. I managed to keep from laughing and settled for a cheerful smile. "It's the best gift ever," I told you, wrapping my arms around your waist. You laughed, obviously happy to hear that. "But Roger, let me tell you something."

"What's that?"

"My birthday was yesterday."

So Roger epic fails with keeping dates straight, oh well. So, something short and silly. I could put here my list of excuses as to why this is uber uber late, but no one wants to hear them anyways. So sorry it took so long and thank you as always for reading! 3


	10. Window

**A/N: So yeah… _ I know I haven't updated in months and I apologize sincerely for that. I had exams out the wazoo and exams breathing over my neck, plus the added stress of figuring out the rest of my college classes. Those are the main excuses; the other is that I shamelessly got addicted to another fandom but fear not! I will finish this series of "Letters" no matter what! With that out of the way, let this drabble proceed.**

**DO NOT OWN UNDER ANY-yeah, you all know what it says.**

Window

After Mother had discovered that I was sneaking away each morning to spend precious time with you, my ties to the world outside my home were cut short. Her excuse was that pirates were on the island (when weren't they?) and pirates were bad people. I remember trying to explain that not all pirates were terrible people (you namely) but she wouldn't hear a word of it. I would've blamed you, Roger, because your crew was always docked at our port, but it was silly and childish to put that on you. Instead, I questioned how I would tell you I wasn't allowed out when…well, I wasn't allowed out (27 years old and grounded like a child.)

I used to sit at my desk and stare out the window, at the sea, at the sky, whatever my eyes landed on. Ever so fondly did I call this "grounding sentence" my confinement; it certainly felt like it. Because boredom always ate away at me, I took up sketching everything I saw out that window: people, flowers, clouds, and so on. This pattern continued on for what seemed like years and it wasn't uncommon for me to stare out that window all day.

On one unusually hot day, I still sat at my desk with that window wide open to let in the cooling sea breeze. I glanced up every-so-often to continue on with my sketch of whatever caught my attention. It kept me sane I suppose. I had been drawing a bird perched outside the window when I glanced up to find you staring back at me. I remember falling backwards out of my chair in surprise to which you apologized over and over, reaching in to lend me a hand. I righted myself and called to my mother (who had asked what the crash was) before looking back at you with my hands on my hips.

"Why, pray tell, are you in my window?" I asked civilly and I really tried to sound annoyed with you but I had missed you. You grinned widely and answered that I hadn't come by to say hi and decided to investigate. I wasn't at all surprised; it was something you would do, of course. I sighed and proceeded to tell you about my "confinement" and you couldn't stop from laughing.

"A grown woman, grounded like a child!" I was slightly annoyed with your raucous laughter, especially since I was sure Mother was close enough to hear. At long last, you quieted and sat your chin on the window sill, asking what I had been doing to kill time; I showed you the poor sketches I had done. You laughed again and I snapped the book shut and stashed it in my desk drawer. I exclaimed that you probably couldn't do much better, but asked what new adventures you had gone on in my absence. You grinned and relayed back to me the excursions you had been doing through the town without me watching you. This pattern of coming to my window to chat continued until the very end of my grounding sentence.

I still stare out this window and sketch what I see. I will glance up to check the subject of my poor artistic skills and every so often, I will catch myself hoping you will be sitting there, grinning dumbly to tell of the day's adventures.

So yes, a new update. Hallelujah and hello. Hopefully, I can redeem myself with this and if not…well, I think of something. So thank you for being patient with me (those who still remain) and as always, reviews and requests are always open! Thanks for reading!


	11. Date

**A/N: Because ff.n was being a pain in my ass, I wasn't able to reply back to my reviewers. So instead, I shall publically thank them in this chapter.**

**Maclilly:**** Thank you so much for your kind words! Hearing that an update made someone happy makes me, well, happy! You always leave the nicest of things!**

**So without further ado, commence with the newest installment of "Letters"!**

**DISCLAIMER: still don't own. 12 chapters of this and I still have no ownership gdi. XD**

"Let's go on a date." I remember giving you the strangest of looks at your rather blunt notion. You raised an eyebrow at me before laughing and clapping me on the shoulder (I'll have you know, it almost knocked me over!). "What's that face for? I won't eat you, silly girl!" I rolled my eyes with a smile. A date sounded wonderful, especially considering how long I had been forbidden from leaving the house grounds (again with the confinement). "Besides, you're probably dying to do something after being stuck inside for so long!" I almost forgot that you seemed to read my mind or was simply good at guessing what was on my mind.

"A date sounds nice," I remember answering politely. I know around you, I didn't have to be a prim and proper lady; I could just be me. But regardless, I had still wanted to use my manners. You laughed and took me by the hand (my cheeks burned from the embarrassment, Roger, burned!) before leading me down streets that already seemed familiar to you. You appeared overjoyed that I had accepted and I still can't fathom why you would've even considered the possibility of me turning you down. Now who was the silly one, me or you?

As stupid as it sounds (now and back then), I had felt the need to dress up at least a little bit; it wasn't everyday that I went on dates after all. But you insisted that I was perfect the way I was and it left me speechless, but happy nonetheless. The idea of a date together seemed to appeal to both of us (I knew we had those stupid grins on our faces) and yet, we had both stood there, with no clue as to what we would do as a date. "How about a picnic?" I had suggested. "We could have it by the shoreline." I remember that you wasted no time in agreeing with me, hugging me around my neck and applauding my creativity (perhaps you were sucking up to make up for something stupid you would do later on). With a set plan, we had headed through the crowded market in search of picnic ingredients; I had been in charge of this since you had said before you failed as a cook. As such, I had left you with the task of handling bags, so I could keep my hands free; you took it with stride and a grin.

After having the ensemble of necessities, we walked back to my house, laughing all the while. As any other time, I had poked my head in just enough to call if anyone was home to a relief that no one was; I only let you in when the house was barren of the rest of the family. I tried my best to block you out to a moderate level as I assembled our would-be picnic lunch (you seemed louder than usual but I didn't mind) and I was thankful that we lived far enough away from the village for anyone to hear you. To keep you occupied while I finished my task, I had sent you in the direction of a basket and cloth, others picnic necessities. At the time, I hadn't thought it was that difficult of a task but I should've known better; you were a master at getting into trouble.

After a few mishaps (a mess that had exploded from the closet and the quick task of stuffing it back in), we managed to leave before my family came back home. The seas shore had sounded like a wonderful place for our little date excursion but most of it was occupied with fishing boats and nets, not to mention your own ship of course. So we settled for a private area much farther down from the shoreline commotion.

I remember that date so fondly. It wasn't long after lunch had been finished that you hoisted me up by the waist and dragged me into the ocean. Being the lovesick woman I was and am, I couldn't be mad at you for it; I simply laughed and dragged you down with me. It wasn't long at all that we were laughing cheerfully, playing in the ocean in our everyday clothes while receiving queer looks from others. I know that I've never had many dates in my life but no matter how many it ever was, none could have even compared to ours.

**What blasphemy is this? Two updates in two days when I was just complaining about college? Be still my heart! No, in all honesty, I had lost my creative spark for a time but now I've gotten it back! Hopefully I can get back to my first schedule (once a week) but if I do, they'll be late-night updates. So thank you for reading and I hope to hear from you all in the future!**


	12. Kiss

**A/N: I have very few excuses that could make up for this horrible lack of updating and I appreciate the patience of those who still read this. Thank you.**

Kiss

You know, our village stopped feeling relieved every time you and your crew set sail. I think that they knew you would come back and that you never caused trouble (well, not much anyways.) Even though they knew this and some had even conversed daily, I was still the only person who ever came to see you off. I suppose maybe it was understandable; you were still pirates no matter what. "You come to see us off," you used to say, "so that's all that should matter!" And you would laugh and muss up my hair (which I never bothered to tell you how much I hated that.)

You used to stand on the beach with me and watch as weeks-worth of supplies were taken aboard, shouting an order every so often with a grin. It struck me as strange, quite honestly, to see you in such a manner and perhaps this was because I had never seen you interact with your crew, even after all this time.

"We'll come visit soon," you told me each time. "I have no idea when, kind of depends on which way the wind blows and what trouble we might get into, but we'll definitely come back!" I laughed and smiled each and every time, because I knew you always held yourself to that. It was like any other send-off; nothing that hadn't been said before. You thought that was boring, didn't you? Decided that you wanted to make an impression before you left that time, correct?

"Whelp, see you when we see you!" you chirped with a grin. And you leaned down and kissed my cheek. You completely caught me off-guard, Roger! And you knew how embarrassed I was because you pointed it out and laughed; I should've smacked you! I couldn't bring myself to do it though and instead stood there, my face as red as your coat. I asked what that was for, grumbling it instead of properly asking. "Well, I didn't think I needed a reason," you answered, "but I suppose I can think one up." So you stood there, arms crossed and eyes to the sky. "Think of it as a promise, like a promise that I'll definitely come back!" As if I couldn't make myself look any more foolish, I stood there and blinked; I felt my cheeks flush red again.

You left me with that parting note and as I stood on the beach, watching as you departed, I wondered why you did that. Did you see that twinge of sadness I felt each time you set off and tried to make it go away? It was a valiant effort, Roger dear, but a failed one. It only made me miss you more.

**I apologize for the shortness of the chapter and I wish I still had the same inspiration as before but it can't be helped. Even though updates are short and far and few-between, I still intend to finish this. So thank you for your patience, everyone.**


	13. Waiting

**A/N: So yeah…I'm kind of alive and yes this is an actual update. It's been on my mind for ages to update this buuuuuuuut…I stare at a blank document, listening to music on youtube and hope for some inspiration. Fortunately, I found some! So here we go.**

**Same as always, don't own.**

Waiting

There is something called the "waiting game," Roger, and it is perhaps the most agonizing game in existence. Do you how often you made me play it? Far more than I ever wanted to, more than I thought I ever would. It's a simple game, involves nothing but sitting on pins and needles and waiting; simplicity itself. It's a wretched and dreadful game that I hated partaking in. I do hope you're proud of yourself for that.

I would sit and play that game for days, weeks even, just waiting and watching for when your ship would dock at our port again. Some days, the game would be played at my desk, where I write these letters. Others it would be on the porch, sitting and scanning the sea for any sign of a ship. Needless to say, the waiting game was also full of disappointment. But day in and day out, I would sit and wait for you to come back. I didn't know when, if ever, but I would keep waiting.

The waiting game was good for one thing and one thing only, Roger: it let my mind wander, to places it would never go because of so many outside distractions. Did you know that it was actually over a game of waiting that I realized how much you truly meant to me? I knew I would realize it eventually but with waiting seeming to be my only task, it hit a bit quicker than expected. It weighed heavily on my mind for days but it made the waiting a little less aggravating, yet also a little bit dreadful. I finally realized this yet I had to wait an unknown amount of time before I could even tell you.

The waiting game went on for weeks, five to be exact (yes, I counted.) I'm ashamed now to admit that I had begun to give up, that maybe I was waiting for nothing. At first I could easily scold myself for thinking such a thing but as days passed by, I didn't find it to be as easy as before. My days became busied with other tasks and I spent less and less time waiting for you; perhaps it was to keep my mind off of it. For a time, I had forgotten about the waiting game I was playing. I think you must've been magic or something, Roger, because not a day after I had truly given up did you finally revisit our little island.

I was playing what remained of the waiting game at the shoreline, digging my hands in the sand and letting the grains slip through my fingers. Mother had noticed my apparently obvious sullen mood and shooed me out to get some fresh air; she blamed it on changing weather (oh, if only she knew.) I sat there for hours, still waiting for I had thought would never return. I truly wish you could have seen the surprise on my face when I saw your ship headed towards our docks; you would've laughed until you fell over, as you usually did. For whatever reason, to this day I still don't know why, I didn't raise my hopes too high as I wandered (the fishermen claim that I ran but I'm not convinced) over to where the ship was docking.

And still I played that dreadful game, standing there with my hands clenched together while rocking back and forth on my heels. I didn't want to raise my hopes, that maybe it was only your crew coming to inform me of the worst, but I remember that doubt being eased away by their cheerful demeanors and laughs. I had been anxious at that point for one reason or another. My arms were now crossed so that my hands could wring at my sleeves before they rubbed the skin off the other, and still I rocked on my feet. I could see them but not you.

I do and don't doubt that you could ever feel the relief I did when you stepped onto that dock. I stopped rocking and stopped wringing my poor sleeves when I saw that dorky grin of yours, laughing at something a crewmate had said. At last, that accursed waiting game had ended. Why had I ever doubted you? I do remember how bright your face got when you noticed me standing there; I think I still wore an expression of surprise and anxiety. I think it was rather foolish now looking back on it.

You strode right up to me, your grin never faltering. "I told you I'd be back!" you chirped, squeezing me until I was positively sure I would break in two (I wish you had kept in mind that I was a tiny person, Roger.) "Surely you didn't doubt me!" Did you say that because it was still blatantly obvious on my face that I had, even for a brief while? My eyes looked over your features, trying to find some indication of disappointment at my doubts, but you only blinked with a confused look.

I remember smiling and shaking my head, telling you that I hadn't doubted you. After all, you had made that promise upon your last departure. "It's nice to have you back," I remember saying, returning your (rather suffocating) hug. I know I had wanted to tell right then and there how I felt but my mind was too fogged with relief and glee of having you back that I never considered it. Yet there was one thing that still bothered me. "Roger?"

"Yes?" That curiosity in your tone I failed to pick up on for some strange reason.

"The next time you make a promise to a young lady," I made possibly the boldest move in my entire life that day. I grabbed you by the collar and pulled you to my level for a kiss, "make sure to do it right next time."

**So I kind of like and kind of hate the ending but that fails to matter! I know it's been forever (or at least feels like it) but thank you for reading. Hopefully I'll have more to come sooner and not several months apart!**


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